Of Jackals and Shadows
by SerenLyall
Summary: A nightmare, followed by a series of questionable events, leads SG-1 deep into the heart of a millennium old bargain. Will they escape with their sanity? Or, more importantly, their lives?
1. Of Dreams and Fire

**Disclaimer:** Stargate SG-1 nor anything in the Stargate franchise belongs to me. Instead, they belong to their respective owners, including, but not limited to: MGM, Gekko, etc. I make no claim to this nor any ideas taken from the show, only original characters and plot lines. No money was made from the writing of this story.

**Rating:** Upper Teens. Rated Teen for graphic images, disturbing ideas, sci-fi action. Further warnings shall be posted if need be.

**Category:** Adventure/Horror

**Summary:** A nightmare, followed by a series of questionable events, leads SG-1 deep into the heart of a millennium old bargain. Will they escape with their sanity? Or, more importantly, their lives?

**Timeframe:** Season 7

**A/N:** Hmph...well I most certainly wasn't expecting to be writing this. In fact, this is my latest idea, and I usually attempt to write in descending, not ascending order. However, I decided I simply HAD to write this. I can't promise you frequent or regular updates, so I apologize and warn you in advance. I have just started school again, and as such, I have very little time on my hands to write much at all (and I'm currently working on another project as well.) However, I just couldn't let this rot away in my documents, because I know that if I don't go ahead and post it, the story will never come to fruition. Please read, I would love it if you would review, but most of all, I hope that you enjoy this!

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**Of Jackals and Shadows**

Chapter 1: Of Dreams and Fire

_._

_Shadows trailed around her body, their tips brushing her with a tantalizing pain, the serpentine vines entwining in her hair. She struggled to force air into her abused lungs, sucking in the putrid air through her mouth. Even so, the filthy, vile stench coated her tongue, filling her with the same nauseating feeling of pain, blood and vomit. Suddenly, she found herself wondering why she wasn't moving, why she wasn't attempting to escape. She threw herself forward, her mind begging her legs to move, for her feet to take her weight. Even before her right foot came down to rest on the torn earth, however, she knew it was a hopeless cause. Her leg collapsed and she fell, her shoulder slamming into the rock strewn ground, the jagged ridges of scorched soil tearing through her skin. She rolled, curling herself into a ball as the snaking tendrils of shadow coalesced, the edges billowing like a fog blowing in the wind. It was as if the shadow was tearing, a second, more concrete figure ripping through the threads of darkness. The four legged creature trotted forward, its hackles raised, its head lowered close to the ground. It came to a halt a few feet away from her, its lips writhing back to bare ivory teeth in a feral grin. A cackle issued from between its separated teeth, the darkness behind it flaring in response to the sound._

Sam sat up, the blanket that had been lying across her legs falling to the ground in a crumpled heap. Fear coursed through her body like a narcotic venom, slowing her actions and stilling her mind into a frighteningly slow stumble. In the distance, she could dimly hear someone screaming. It took her a few, eternal seconds for her to realize that it was herself. As soon as the thought penetrated her numbed mind, her mouth closed, cutting off the shrill cry.

A figure beside her sat up abruptly, moving almost instantly to come to rest by her side.

"Carter. Carter!" O'Neill yelled, gripping her shoulders. Sam looked up, her own, wide eyes meeting his own steady gaze. Something around her snapped, and it was as if the world suddenly resumed its natural balance, time resuming its usual course. Sam broke free of Jack's grip, staggering to her feet and stumbling outside before she fell to her knees and threw up.

A few seconds later, she felt someone beside her, one comforting hand on her back, another gently holding the hair up out of her face. Sam coughed, then sat back, shivering. Wordlessly, Daniel handed her a water bottle, which Sam accepted gratefully, using the tepid water to rinse the vile taste out of her mouth. A taste which brought an unpleasant pang of fear as pictures from the dream assaulted her once again.

First one minute, then a second, lapsed by in silence. Finally, Daniel stood, proffering a hand to Sam. She took it gratefully, and her friend helped her to her feet. Daniel turned back to reenter the house, but Sam stopped, clutching his fingers tightly. Looking back, Daniel sighed slightly, but turned away from the welcoming golden glow that issued from inside the mud and stone dwelling, realizing that, at that moment, Sam needed a friend more than he needed sleep.

Still holding Sam's hand in his, Daniel led his friend off of the stone path that lead to the door, guiding her instead into the lush gardens that encircled the guest house that the four members of SG-1 had been graciously granted for the duration of their stay. Finding a stone bench secreted beneath two delicately waving palm trees, the two of them sat, Daniel attempting to provide what little comfort he could.

Sam gazed upward, over the wall that granted the house protection, her gaze fastened on the brightly twinkling stars that glittered high above their heads, her thoughts roaming.

Finally, Daniel broke the silence that enveloped the two of them. "Are you okay?" he asked tentatively, his voice fraught with worry.

"What?" Sam asked, finally tearing her eyes away from the heavenly orbs above her. "Oh, um, yeah," she said, although she wasn't even able to convince herself of the fact. Daniel, unsurprisingly, looked at her skeptically.

"Sam, I've known you for seven years. What happened?"

"It was a nightmare, Daniel," Sam snapped. "What else do you expect?"

"Yeah, well last time I checked, most nightmares didn't wake you up screaming. And I've seen you throw up a total of four times, I think, and one of them was because of food poisoning." Daniel left it at that, trusting his friend's mind to be able to fill in what he hadn't said as easily as if he had spoken the words aloud.

Sam understood what Daniel was implying. _What was so bad that it made you puke?_

"I don't know what it was, Daniel," Sam said softly. "It was…it was like nothing I'd ever seen before – me or Jolinar, for that matter." Sam trailed off, unsure of what else to say, taking comfort from the stolid warmth of Daniel's fingers around hers.

Daniel waited in silence for a few more minutes, waiting to see if Sam would disclose anything else about whatever it was that she had dreamt of. She was not so forthcoming. He contemplated pushing her for more information, but then decided against it. She was calming down on her own, her shivering subsiding, her breathing evening out.

Finally, Daniel asked, "Ready to go back in?"

"Yeah," Sam replied after a moment's pause, releasing Daniel's fingers. "And Daniel?" she said, stopping him before they stepped out of the shadows under the palm trees. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Of course," Daniel answered automatically, although he wasn't entirely sure what she was thanking him _for._ What had he done? He had been there, sat by her, listened to her, been a friend to comfort her and help allay her fears. And that had been enough.

Together, the two members of SG-1 entered the brightly lit room, their bare feet hitting the stone floor with dull thumps. Teal'c was sitting in a corner of the room kelno'reeming, his face thrown into sharp relief by the shadows that lurked along the walls. O'Neill was lounging on his bedroll, fiddling with his knife as he waited for the two of them to return.

"Well there you two are, I was beginning to wonder if the natives kidnapped you," Jack drawled from his position on the floor. He didn't question either Sam or Daniel about what had happened, something for which Carter was very grateful.

"Not funny Jack," Daniel quipped, sitting down on his own sleeping bag. Sam took her own place, sitting cross-legged with her back against the rough, cream colored stone wall. She looked around the room, letting the vague familiarity of her surroundings set her at ease.

It was a simple dwelling, comprised of only one room. In the far corner stood a simple stove, live coals burning cherry red underneath the thin stone slate that was set over top of the shimmering bed of embers, the stone resting on four bricks. Beside it rose a counter, an odd assortment of clay pots and containers littering the top with a messy order. A bucket filled with clean water rested on the other side of the stove. A small curtain hung around another corner, the rich red of the drape hiding the small section serving as a temple. The four bedrolls were spaced throughout the rest of the empty floor, all four members of SG-1 electing to sleep in their own sleeping bags rather than the prickly, uncomfortable beds provided for them by their hosts. Lamps stood on shelves that lined the walls, each flame filling the room with a steady glow.

"So, Daniel, what do you think of this place?" Jack asked, clapping his hands together.

"You asked me that same question just a few hours ago," Daniel replied, "and my view on it hasn't changed a bit in the last two hour. They seem to be ancient Egyptian, their level of advancement and technology not much more advanced than they were on our own Earth. They serve most of the ancient Egyptian gods, but primarily Anubis, Osiris, and Apophis – which, I might add, is an interesting combination, especially if you look back at Earth's own mythology. Strangely enough, they don't appear to be slaves or ruled by a specific System Lord. But, like I said, I've already told you all of this."

"Right," O'Neill said. "So, we can just pack up and go home tomorrow, right?" O'Neill asked.

"But Jack, I thought you said we could stay for three days," Daniel objected, a slight whine in his voice.

"Yes, Daniel, that is what I said. But I'm changing my mind." Jack looked at Daniel significantly, flicking his gaze to Sam, who was currently staring at her hands, which were folded in her lap. "I don't want anything to go wrong with this mission, and, as I'm sure you've noticed, when one thing starts looking funny, there's usually something else that follows close behind."

"Oh," was all Daniel replied, finally getting at what exactly Jack was hinting at.

"With all due respect, Sir," Carter said, looking up and locking her gaze with O'Neill's, "we don't have to leave on my account. It was just a nightmare – there's nothing strange about that. Besides, I'm a big girl; I can handle a few bad dreams."

"I wasn't implying you couldn't, Major," O'Neill replied evenly. "But I have this funny feeling," he explained. "You know the one…that strange tingling that you get when you realize something a little 'not cool' is going to happen?" he asked, drawing quotations through the air with his fingers. He merely decided to leave out the fact that it was her nightmare that had brought that very feeling prickling up his spine, causing the small, fine hairs on the back of his neck to quiver.

"I agree with O'Neill," Teal'c said, speaking up from his corner by the doorway. His eyes opened as he observed his friends and their discussion.

The last bit of argument left Sam, leaving her feeling exhausted and emotionally drained.

"Good, it's settled then," Jack announced, seeing the resignation in Carter's eyes as she looked down at her lap once again. "We'll give our apologies to Ol'kef, or whatever his name is, and head back home." With that, he stood, walking around the room, shuttering each of the lamps so that only a faint glow pervaded the room.

Reluctantly, Sam settled back into her sleeping bag, her gaze riveted on one of the lamps as her mind sought something to keep it from travelling down a dark, painful path. The lamp reminded her of a firefly, in a way, with its tail flashing its calm, reassuring golden light as it danced through the trees in the falling twilight, illuminating the green fronds of the trees. The small insects had been one of the most relaxing and most enjoyable things about living in Georgia, even better than the colorful explosions of flowers that would line the highways in early spring. Even better than the solitary peace that you could find in the small copses of trees, where you didn't have to worry about grizzlies or mountain lions.

Without even realizing it, Sam slipped out of consciousness and into a light doze.

**J-_-S-_-T-_-D**

An explosion shook the brick house, causing a light rain of dust to filter through the humid air. Sam awoke almost instantly, her eyes snapping open as a second explosion sent a flair of light filtering through the open doorway. Once again, the sturdy structure shook from the shock wave, more dust and fragments of clay and straw drifting through the air to join the already fallen chips lying on the floor.

Teal'c suddenly appeared in the doorway, his face grave as he turned to face O'Neill, who was hurriedly gathering supplies.

"Teal'c, what's going on?" O'Neill asked, his head snapping around to face the Jaffa. Out of the corner of her eye, Sam could see Daniel continuing to sleep, tangled up in his blankets.

"The village is under attack, O'Neill," Teal'c responded. "By whom, I am unsure. However, I doubt that it is any neighboring village. These people did not seem to possess the knowledge necessary to form explosives."

Yet another explosion filled the night sky with a searing heat and flying debris, and Sam's eyes went wide at the proximity of the sudden gout of flame. Throwing the blanket off of her, she scrambled to her feet, hurrying to kneel by Daniel, who had yet to waken.

"Daniel," Sam hissed, shaking him a little.

"Wha-what?" Daniel grumbled as he was shaken out of a deep slumber. "Sam?" he asked, surprised. "Is everything alright?"

"We're under attack," O'Neill said, answering for Sam. "Hurry and pack," he ordered. "We're leaving."

"But wait, Jack," Daniel said, scrambling to his feet as well, all sleep driven completely out of his mind, "we can't just up and leave them." Another explosion shook the house, this time much closer than any of the others. "They won't be able to fight against whatever it is that's attacking them. They aren't nearly advanced enough."

"Daniel, I honestly don't really care right now," Jack barked. "I'm more concerned with getting the four of us out of a combat zone safe and unscathed. This was supposed to be an easy, run-of-the-mill, meet'n'greet, remember?"

"Yeah, but Jack…" Daniel trailed off, searching for another argument.

"No buts, Daniel. We're leaving. Pack up, and that's an order." Resignedly, Daniel complied, joining the other three members of his team a few minutes later as he hoisted his pack onto his back.

"Let's move out," Jack said, turning and exiting the dwelling.

Searing heat filled the night sky – a heat very different from the humid warmth that pervaded the air around the river that ran through the village, Sam noted. Smoke curled around the stars, blotting out the red-tinged sky with menacing gray tendrils. As the four members of SG-1 exited through the gate in the stone wall that surrounded their temporary living quarters, they saw fires burning in the street, the flames flickering from fallen debris.

Together, with O'Neill leading the way, SG-1 trotted down the deserted roads, their goal the rolling sand dunes that surrounded the small village. Once they were out of the village, they could strike for the Gate, and home.

As they ran, a niggling doubt pierced Sam's mind. As she looked around, it finally fell into place.

"No one's here," she muttered to herself. Teal'c heard her as well, however, and he turned his head to gaze at his blonde friend.

Noticing this, Jack looked over his shoulder. "What was that, Carter?" he asked.

"There aren't any survivors out here, Sir. It's as if everyone is just…gone; like they were taken." _Or killed_, Sam thought, but she didn't voice that opinion.

"Hm," grunted Jack, logging the information away to be pondered upon at a later time. He turned forward once again, just in time to smash into a rippling blue force field.

O'Neill fell back, landing on his back with a puff of sand and a rush of air expelled from his lungs.

"Jack, are you alright?" Daniel asked, rushing forward to kneel beside his fallen friend.

"Yes Daniel, I'm just spiffing," Jack spat. "My nose is just tingling like nobody's business." He sat up with a groan, massaging the offended body part. "Carter, why is there a force field around the village? Last time I checked, this was open road."

"Uh, I'm not sure Sir," Sam replied, her brows creasing as she stepped forward to get a better look at the force field. She smacked her hand against the smooth, glass-like surface, watching as the rippling blue lights spiraled out from the contact in waves. "I hate to tell you this, Sir, but it looks Goa'uld."

"Great, just great," O'Neill grumbled, picking himself up. "Now we need to find another entrance to the village.

"But Sir, why would they choose to block _this_ entrance?" Sam asked, a chill of realization beginning to settle in the pit of her stomach.

"What are you meaning?" O'Neill asked.

"Well, Sir, it would stand to reason that whoever is attacking wouldn't want anyone to escape. If that's the case, then they wouldn't merely blockade one entrance…"

"So they'd put a force field around the entire village," Daniel supplied.

"I have never heard of, nor experienced any Goa'uld tactic such as this," Teal'c stated as the four of them turned back the way that they had come.

"Great," Jack muttered, leading the group back the way they had come.

A sudden explosion behind them sent all four tumbling to the ground. Teal'c was the first to regain his feet, closely followed by O'Neill and Carter. Reaching down, Sam helped Daniel to his feet.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Jack cursed, spitting grime out of his mouth.

A whining sound pierced the scorched air, and Teal'c yelled, "MOVE!"

Without hesitation, Sam lunged forward, only to be thrown off of her feet a second time as a second explosion rocked the air. The sound of three other bodies hitting the ground hard struck her as she struggled to force searing air down her ragged throat.

"Move, move, move," Jack yelled over the roar of the fire, staggering to his feet. "Drop your packs and run!" he ordered as yet another whining sound sliced through the night sky.

Sam reached up, unclasping the buckles that held her pack to her shoulders. It fell to the ground with a thud and she turned, snagging Daniel's hand as he struggled to free himself from the oppressive weight.

The whine increased in intensity, heralding the oncoming explosion.

"I can't get it off!" Daniel yelled, frantically tugging at the buckles. He staggered forward, but the weight was dragging him down, holding him a prisoner of the ground. Sam knelt by his side, reaching down to pull the pack off of his back, only to discover the reason that he had been having so much difficulty. The plastic buckles had been melted together.

She frantically tore at the material, trying to separate the straps. Suddenly, Colonel O'Neill was kneeling by her side, a knife flashing in his hands. He hurriedly sliced the pack into shreds, and Sam grabbed Daniel's wrist, yanking him to his feet as the pack fell to the ground.

Together, the three of them sprinted forward. The explosion behind them was frighteningly close, the shock wave, once again, blasting them off of their feet. Teal'c was suddenly amongst them, helping Daniel up and urging him onward.

Sam rolled onto her back, coughing and gasping. A large hand appeared in her field of vision, and she took it gratefully, the large Jaffa pulling her to her feet. Yet another whine filled the air.

"Come on! Really?" Jack yelled, anger rife in his voice, before he took off running down the roadway. Sam followed him, Daniel at her side. She could feel Teal'c behind them, his solid presence reassuring even in this suddenly crazed world.

This time, when the explosion lanced up into the sky, they were far enough away that none of them were sent careening to the ground. For that, Sam was very grateful. She was going to be sore and bruised from the three falls that she had already experienced.

And yet, the explosions did not let up. Yet another whine filled the smoky air, and Sam cursed to herself. And then she realized what was happening.

"They're herding us!" she yelled over the boom behind them. "They're using the explosions to herd us!"

"Then they their job," O'Neill yelled back, sliding to a stop as he burst into the town's center.

Sam came to a staggering halt a little behind him. They were standing at an entrance to the central square, a large statue standing proudly in the center. People milled about the sandy space, a few of them sitting by the walls. Many of them were wailing or calling for loved ones, and some of them were covered in blood.

The final explosion behind them sent Sam ducking down as shrapnel and debris flew over their heads, raining them with tiny bits of stone and a multitude of sand. Coughing, she staggered into the protective walled square, Daniel and O'Neill hot on her heels.

"What do we do now?" Daniel asked as the four of them knelt in a circle by the entrance.

O'Neill had just opened his mouth to answer the archaeologist, when the sound of metal booted feet tramped through the far entrance to the square. A few seconds later, a second patrol of Jaffa entered the square from the opening a few feet away from where SG-1 was taking refuge.

"Great. This day just keeps getting better and better," O'Neill groused.

"You there, move in with the others," one of the Jaffa ordered, breaking away from the main contingent. He brandished his staff weapon, threatening the four humans.

"Sir, we don't want to bring attention to ourselves, especially if no one has recognized us yet," Carter hissed to O'Neill as his mouth opened to give one of his snarky retorts. Seeing the wisdom in the major's words, O'Neill's mouth shut with a snick.

"Did you not hear me?" the Jaffa asked. "Move!"

"We're going, we're going," Jack shot back, standing and leading the way to mingle with the planet's natives.

Sam slipped in amongst the natives, following Daniel as he squirmed his way through the crushing mass of people. Finally, she halted when they were in the approximate center, standing shoulder to shoulder with Teal'c and Colonel O'Neill.

A voice rang out through the square, silencing the people's murmuring. Now, the only sound that filled the air was the crackling of the fires in the tows and the man's large, ringing voice.

"People of Rendon, you have been summoned by a great god. He wishes your attendance. And who are you to refuse? Come with us, and you will find glory eternal!"

"Something makes me think that this isn't going to be a voluntary act," Daniel muttered, a frown looking permanently fixated onto his face.

"Split into groups of ten persons each," the man ordered over the murmur that filled the square at the end of his statement.

Jaffa were suddenly among the throngs of people, shepherding them into small groups with harsh words and shoves. As the Jaffa drew closer, Jack suddenly removed his hat, tossing it to Teal'c.

"Wear this. We don't want them realizing that you're a fellow Jaffa," he said. Seeing the wisdom in the words, Teal'c carefully pulled the green cap over his forehead, pulling the bill down to hide his forehead.

And then the Jaffa were beside them.

"Ten. Groups of ten," they were ordering, shoving people into each other as they were separated into the groups. A Jaffa stopped in beside Sam.

"You four, move in with that group," he ordered, although a strange look flitted across his face. It was obvious that they were not like the others, but he dismissed the fact. His god had ordered all those in the village to be brought to him, and so bring them he would. He reached forward to give the woman a push, but she artfully ducked away, ducking away behind a shorter man.

"You heard the man, let's go," O'Neill said, leading the way toward small gathering of people that the Jaffa had pointed to. Sam followed, carefully avoiding contact with any of the Jaffa. She figured that they did not need to realize that she was a former host.

"Keep an eye out for any chances to escape," O'Neill muttered as they joined the group.

A few moments lapsed past in quiet. The silence grated on Sam's nerves, but she didn't want to break the fragile balance that seemed to have been established. At least there weren't any Jaffa surrounding them currently. However, they were near the very center of the square, and had little to no chance of making it through any of the entrances before they were cut down.

The sorting done, a red-haired Jaffa joined the group, standing at attention beside the small gathering. He glanced sideways at his group. From that moment on, he would be responsible for this group of natives. His chest swelled with pride as he turned his attention forward again.

Sam eyed the Jaffa that had joined them with a wary, calculating eye. He looked sure of himself, confident, and arrogant. Perhaps, if they were to be moved to the Stargate, then they would have a chance of overpowering him and escaping.

A warm tingle enveloped her, and she felt the unique pull of a beaming device yanking at her skin. A few seconds later, she found herself standing in the cargo bay of a large ship, the walls decorated with gold filigree and ancient hieroglyphs.

"Move along," their Jaffa escort barked, herding the ten people forward before Sam could get a better view of their surroundings.

They exited the cargo bay and were ushered through hallway after hallway, the maze dizzying after only a few turns. Finally, they came to halt outside a plain door. The Jaffa triggered the opening, and shoved them through.

Unable to stay quiet any longer, Jack turned to walk backwards so he could face the Jaffa. "Really?" he quipped. "Can't you guys ever think of anything more original?" His voice echoed eerily around the brig, the tramp of his boots clanging on the metal floor.

The Jaffa, to his undying credit, ignored the colonel, merely opened the metal door of a cell.

"Enter," he ordered, conducting them into the large cage. The natives of the planet did so without question or hesitation merely plodded into confinement. As soon as they were inside, many of them sat or lay down, looking as if they had no strength left.

Reluctantly, Sam followed Daniel inside. She wished that they could refuse, but she knew that it would be pointless, at least at this point. They turned once they were inside their metal prison, gazing out through the bars with distaste. O'Neill was shoved inside, almost falling into Teal'c as he lost his footing.

"Why don't you at least tell us who you serve?" Jack snapped, turning as the heavy, metal door clanged shut behind him.

The Jaffa smirked, but didn't answer, merely left the brig with a smug bounce in his step. O'Neill looked at his fellow teammates, a grimace fixed onto his face.

"Gah," he grumbled, turning away to find an empty corner in which to sit.

The sound of the door opening again drew his attention back outside the cell. The brig door slid open, and a dark figure marched through the opening, its black armor gleaming.

"Oh shit," Jack cursed, his eyes fastened on the soldier walking past. The Kull warrior's head turned, the large, beetle-like eyes of his helmet fastening on the man before turning back front. After a few more steps, it came to a halt beside the cell door, falling into an easy attention.

"Why does everything have to be so difficult for us?" Jack asked rhetorically, burying his face in his hands and scrubbing his eyes with his palms.

"Because we're SG-1?" Daniel suggested. Jack merely made a noncommittal sound in his throat, before sliding down to sit on the cold, hard floor of the cell. A few minutes later, Sam joined him, pleased that they at least had a corner to themselves.

Everything had happened so fast. First the explosions shepherding them to the square, and then the Jaffa coming before they could even formulate a secondary plan, then the breaking up into small groups, and then only a few moments later being transported up to the ship. And then they hadn't even had a chance to try to escape while they had been escorted to the prison cell.

_Why didn't we try something?_ Sam wondered, staring out at the dully gleaming armor of the Kull warrior. _And what's going on? We've never encountered anything of the sort. And what's wrong with the natives? They look resigned more than anything else._

Unbidden, memories of her dream surfaced to the forefront of her mind, and she couldn't help but shiver as she remembered the cackling laugh of the beast. Her roaming eyes suddenly latched onto a raised hieroglyph in the wall opposite her – a jackal. She gasped, her eyes going wide with realization.

Anubis, according to Egyptian mythology, was the jackal god.

_The jackal cackled, its ivory teeth gleaming in the faint moonlight, the shadow flaring in response to the sound._


	2. Of Feathers and Hearts

**A/N: **Hello, all. How have you been, these last few weeks. As I warned you, this update has been long in coming. Partially due to the fact that last time I posted, it was a Remember 9/11 fic, which was very important to me. Secondly, I've been really busy. And thirdly, I was busy over Labor Day weekend, what with going to Dragon*Con and meeting Amanda Tapping and all. Yes, it is the truth. I met her. And made her laugh. It was simply superb! Anyway, here's Chapter 2. If it hadn't been gained in the first chapter, this story has gained its Teen rating as of this chapter. I hope you like it. Remember - read, enjoy, and, if you wouldn't mind, review!

.**  
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>Chapter 2: Of Feathers and Hearts<p>

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The chill of the cell floor bit through Sam's jacket, small shivers racking her body. She sat up, leaning her back against the wall and pulling her legs up to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her shins and rested her forehead on her knees.

They had been sitting in the cell for four hours. At least, that was what her watch told her, although her mind told her it surely had been much longer of a time than that. Around her, the others lay or sat, the only conversations spoken in whispers and as few words as possible. Beside her, Colonel O'Neill half lay, partially sat against the wall, his body bent down until his legs were stretched out along the floor and his back made a smooth curve along where the floor met the wall. One arm was thrown over his eyes, and every now and again, a small snore would escape his half open mouth.

Daniel lay in the middle of the floor at O'Neill's feet. He was stretched out, his arms cushioning his head as he breathed in an out evenly. Beyond, sitting resolutely in the corner, Teal'c sat as firmly and stolidly as ever, his eyes closed. Sam suspected that he was not truly meditating, but merely thinking and waiting.

With a small sigh, Sam shifted her weight, pulling her knees closer to her body. She closed her eyes, quieting her mind, striving to attain the sleep that her two teammates seemed to have been able to acquire with relative ease. Almost immediately, however, the symbol of the jackal burned in the blackness behind her lids, searing away all thoughts and hopes of sleep.

In a way, Sam decided, she almost hoped that whatever was to happen would happen soon. One of the worst feelings was that of prolonged boredom, knowing, and yet still a little puzzled, by what was to come.

The sound of someone else shifting resounded through the brig, the silence that had descended through the air eating the faint sound of someone rising to their feet. Sam didn't look up, sensing that it was none of her teammates. It was to her surprise when the unknown figure lowered themself to the ground beside her.

"Hello," he said, his voice rich and his accent accentuated by his delicate soprano. Sam, straightening her legs and sitting back to lean against the wire mesh, looked over at the man. He was on the taller side and thin and willowy. He had large, chocolate brown eyes and very shortly and jaggedly cut black hair. His lips were curved into a smile, and he watched her closely, although she could sense no animosity or ulterior motives in their dark depths.

"Hi," Sam responded, turning her head so she could see him better.

The man fell silent, as if he were pondering how to say what he was thinking. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, he spoke again. "You and you're friends have gone through this before?" It was partially a question, but at the same time, almost a statement, Sam realized.

She hesitated, wondering just what to tell the man. He already knew that she and the rest of SG-1 were not from the planet of Rendon, and he seemed to have gathered that they were unique in some way.

"Yes," she finally replied, glancing down at O'Neill, who was now lying flat out on the floor, his head turned to the side. "Well, at least similar scenarios." Deciding to try to uncover some information as well, Sam struck a different path.

"You and your people seem to be rather at ease with the whole thing too," she said, meeting the other man's eyes. "Almost as if…as if you were expecting it," she added, finally placing a finger on the nagging feeling that had been tickling at her thoughts.

A resigned look trickled through the man's expression, and he ducked his head. "Well…" he deliberated. As if deciding that he could trust her, he looked up sharply, meeting her gaze squarely with his. "In a way, yes we were. The ancient records stored in our library told of a time when, every ten years, the great god Anubis would select a town out of the hundreds that dotted our world, and from that village take all the inhabitants. He would look into each of the villagers' hearts and souls, and from them, he would take the wicked and the sinners. Those who he deemed to be evil, he would cast to the fiery lands of the guardian lady Ammit. There, she would destroy the evil doers. In this way, Anubis would cleanse our world of the sinners, and keep us in harmony and peace.

Many generations ago, however, the great god Anubis ceased to come to us. His warriors no longer set foot on our soil, and he no longer took from us the evil ones. It was thought that our village would be the next to be taken, should he return, however. There were many of us that believed that, once evil began to seed itself in our lives once again, Anubis would return, and would judge us once again. We held to the old stories, and told them to our children, and our grandchildren. It is because of this that we are not afraid." This last statement was said with great pride, the man's head held high as a small smile danced around the corners of his lips.

Sam sat, absorbing the new information that had been dumped on her. It all made more sense now, and yet she still couldn't shake the feeling of dread that clutched at her heart and mind.

"How does Anubis determine whether a person is evil or not?" Sam asked, turning back to the man.

Before he could answer, the sound of metal grinding against metal, and the faint whooshing sound of gears whirring into motion directed their attention to the door to the brig.

"Wha?" O'Neill slurred, sitting up abruptly. Daniel mumbled and rolled over, only to open his eyes a few seconds later as the metal tramp of boots clanged through the now open door. True to her earlier assumption, Teal'c opened his eyes at the first glimmer of sound, wide awake, his stony gaze locking onto the opening doors.

Five Jaffa, led by the man who had originally brought them to their cell, approached the door to the cell. He slid his hand over the trigger, and the door slid open with a metallic hiss.

"Come with us," he ordered, a bored drawl to his tone. With hardly a sound, the townspeople rose to their feet, including the man sitting beside Sam, and quickly formed a line in front of the door. With a gesture from the first Jaffa, they began to file out of the opening quickly and just as silently.

"This is kinda spooky," Jack said, climbing to his feet and motioning for the rest of his team to follow suit. "It's like they're lambs being led to the slaughter."

"They know what they're doing, Sir," Sam responded, keeping her voice low. As quickly as she could, she repeated the information that the native man had told her, finishing just as the final villager exited the cell.

"Hey, you there!" the Jaffa barked, stepping inside of the enclosure. "I said let's move." He didn't sound as bored any more, Sam noted.

"We're coming, we're coming," O'Neill grumbled, sauntering forward and brushing past the Jaffa, clipping him on the shoulder. The alien snarled, turning to strike the impudent officer, only to find Sam blocking his path as she expertly stepped in the way. Huffing in annoyance, the Jaffa shoved her between the shoulder blades, rolling his eyes as he turned back to usher Daniel and Teal'c through the doors.

Only one Jaffa remained outside of the cell door, waiting for his comrade. Carter assumed that the others were shepherding the rest of the villagers to whatever their destination.

O'Neill fell into step with his 2IC as they trudged down the gleaming corridors.

"This is all just happening so fast. And it's so…unusual," Carter muttered to him. O'Neill harrumphed in agreement.

"It's like we're just average, everyday prisoners. It's a novelty," he griped back, a sardonic bite to his hushed tone. Carter barely suppressed a snort of amusement, rolling her eyes.

"Quiet!" the second Jaffa snapped, earning a reproving glare from O'Neill. He fell silent, however, striding along the hallway with a sullen tiredness about his gait.

After a few moments, the six of them caught up with the remainder of the group, SG-1 falling in amongst the other six villagers. The man who had been talking to Sam earlier glanced at them, a small question in his eyes. He turned away without seeking an answer, however, and the ten of them, surrounded by the five Jaffa, continued on, marching to the metal clang of their guard's boots.

They continued upward through the ship, climbing level after level, ascending through the bowels of the ship to the higher, more frequently used levels. Slaves and squadrons of Jaffa occasionally passed them, drawing closer to the walls to allow the small group to pass without impediment.

Just when Sam began to begin to lose track of their path from the brig, the corridor ended, opening out into a grand throne room.

Gasps and startled sounds rose from all around as the townspeople gazed in awe at the splendor that they suddenly found themselves in. Sam wasn't entirely impressed, she decided, as she glanced around the room. Tapestries and wall hangings decorated the walls and carpets dotted the floors. Deep reds and blues brought splashes of color to the otherwise gold and silver room, muting the sheer brilliance of the precious metals. Emerald and sapphire was set into the walls, forming pictographs and hieroglyphs in strategic places where the wall plating joined. A golden throne was perched on a raised dais at the back of the large, domed and pillared room, the statues of two jackals sitting at either side of the steps leading up to the great seat, as if the two ivory creatures were standing guard for their master. As Sam looked at their snarling faces, she found she couldn't quash the rising wave of apprehension that threatened to consume her. She swallowed, forcing down the irascible feelings that stabbed at her.

"My lord, the final group of villagers, as you requested," the leading Jaffa said solemnly, kneeling before the throne.

"Bring them forward." The rough, rasping sound of the Goa'uld's voice issued from the shadow that seemed to hover on top of the throne. The cloak that covered the being's 'body' hung limply around him, the swirling shadows that consumed his face rippling. The four other Jaffa, all of whom had taken places in a line behind the small group, shoved the group forward, herding them toward their master.

The first mutterings of unease were heard from the townspeople as they got the first look at their god. He was nothing like they had imagined, nor fit with any of the accounts of their ancient texts. Sam could almost feel the tension rise, the taste of fear beginning to kindle flickering around her.

"Which of you will be the first?" Anubis mused, the cloaked head turning as the Goa'uld inspected each of them in turn. As he reached the end of the line, his sweeping gaze slowed as he fastened onto the sight of SG-1 standing resolutely and strongly at the edge. He said nothing, merely watched the four of them closely, anger and resentment beginning to bleed off of him in an almost tangible aura. "The woman," he said, pointing to Carter.

Rough hands grabbed her shoulders, shoving her forward. A startled cry escaped Carter's lips as she was pushed forward, her boots scrabbling against the smooth metal floor as she strained to keep her feet under her.

The muted shouts from the Colonel and Daniel filtered through the roaring pounding in her ears as Sam fought against the firm grip encasing her shoulders in a clamp of iron. The next thing she knew, a sharp blow was aimed at the back of her legs, her knees folding in as her legs buckled.

Her head was yanked upward, cruel fingers threading themselves viciously through her hair. She caught the sight of Anubis rising to his feet, descending the steps to his throne with a lupine grace. As he reached the floor, he paused for a moment, regarding the woman kneeling before him with a cold intensity. Briefly, his sight flickered to the three men watching him with undisguised hatred gleaming on their faces.

Anubis turned back to Sam, pacing around her like a cat prowling around a mouse caught in a trap. One hand extended from beneath the cloak to trail along Sam's cheek. The tingle of naquadah prickled up her spine, and she bit her lip to keep herself from shivering.

Sam rolled her eyes, trying to gain sight of the creature circling her. It was futile, however, for she could no longer see the shadowed creature behind her.

Pain bit into the base of Sam's skull as a sharp needle seemed to be injected into her spine, fire lancing through her mind. Her entire body tensed as every nerve in her skin screamed in agony. Her jaws were locked together in an eternal scream. Just as abruptly as it had assaulted her, the pain dwindled away, leaving her gasping for air.

Before her, shimmering into view, a single illusion was glinting in the torchlight. A scale hung above the first step, on one side, a heart. On the other, a pure white feather rested on the platform. With an almost surreal grace, the scale tipped, the heart dragging the scale down to rest upon the step. With a flash of light, the image vanished.

Burning assaulted her, splashing across her right shoulder with an intensity of a thousand suns. This time she couldn't stop the scream that leapt to her lips, wrenching its way out of her body as she jerked and spasmed. With a hiss, the shirt and jacket that covered her skin began to smoke, the cloth melting away. A red, fiery light burned from her skin, small rays of sadistic light breaking their way through the material. Later, Sam would have sworn that she felt the skin itself bubbling from the heat that coursed through her, pouring into the small patch of delicate flesh.

Behind her, unseen, the six other villagers shifted uneasily, their eyes flickering back and forth from the sight of the screaming woman to the three struggling figures fighting to get to her. The oldest man was yelling obscenities, cursing and fighting tooth and nail to rip his way free. The younger man with glasses was yelling, calling, pleading with Anubis to stop the torture, while the third man, the large, bronze colored one, strained silently against the two Jaffa holding him. His gaze was stony and cold, promising a painful death to the creature inflicting the pain. For the first time in centuries, doubt flickered in their minds, fear welling up in their hearts.

Slowly, the pain diminished, vanishing from Sam's body, as did the light radiating from her shoulder. The smoke remained, however, hovering just above her head like a smoldering raincloud.

"Curse you, Ammit." So quietly; those three words were whispered so near silent, that Sam, who was breathing heavily, fighting back sobs, wasn't even sure that Anubis had spoken. And yet, she could feel the rage oozing out of him like honey out of a beehive.

A pealing laugh echoed through the throne room, the sound laced with the searing heat of a thousand flames and the biting burn of a vat of acid.

"Don't even think of attempting a slight of hand, Anubis," a lilting voice said. The words echoed painfully through Sam's head, sending her falling forward as the Jaffa holding her upright released her shoulders. "You must pay me what is mine. I have chosen her, just as I have all these others," she said, motioning around the room at the cowering villagers and the other three members of SG-1. "She is _mine,_" the woman hissed. "Aren't you?" she cooed, and Carter felt a tickling stab prick her cheek.

Turning onto her side, pushing away the pain, Sam looked up and into the face of the woman, the creature that had caused her so much pain in such little time.

The figure of the woman was tall, her skin olive and her eyes a dark, mysterious green. Black ringlets were pinned upon her head, jade pins holding the locks in place in an intricate style. Her eyes were glassy and angled, the pupils gleaming blood red. She smiled at Sam, only to reveal the jagged, pointed teeth of the monstrous crocodile. Her fingers were tipped with long, razor-sharp claws, and a tail flickered back and forth behind her, the lion's boundless energy showing through in the restless movement of the appendage. As Carter finished analyzing the woman, she stopped in surprise. The woman wore no shoes, but instead, the loose, flowing pants that she wore swept over gray skin, the tips of the feet sectioned into three toes.

"She is mine, Anubis," the woman hissed, looking up from her kneeling position on the floor. "Don't forget that," she finished as she faded from view, her image disappearing.

In the background, as if his voice was muted through a veil, Carter thought she could hear Daniel whisper to the now silently struggling Jack, "It's Ammit. Jack, this isn't good. This really, really isn't good."


	3. Of Trials and Tribulations

**A/N**:

Dear Readers,

I am writing you this letter to apologize most profusely. During the past month and ten days I have found myself being unfaithful in our author/reader relationship, and I cannot express how disappointed and upset I am at myself for that. I allowed a little thing called Life to seduce me and drag me away from what I know truly matters. However, I am pleased to tell you that I have now officially ended my relationship with Marching Band, and will strive my very hardest to be the author that I know you deserve. I hope that, somewhere, in the depths of your heart, you can forgive me.

Sincerely,

Seren (your author)

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Yeah, I am SO sorry for taking such a long hiatus. Deeply, very deeply sorry! I'll try to never leave you all hanging this long again, and I understand if any of you stop reading this or hate me or whatever...I know it bugs me when authors take FOREVER to update. Anyway...I hope that you like this chapter. Remember, read, reviewing would be really nice of you, but please, PLEASE enjoy!

*Content Warning for this chapter. Not really sure what to put it under precisely, so we'll just go with 'semi-adult themes and scenarios'. This IS a PG-13 story. Not a slightly mature K+*

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Chapter 3: Of Trials and Tribulations

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Silence fell over the Throne Room, the only audible sound Sam's rapid breathing and stifled sobs. She was curled on her side, blood beading on her lip as she bit down, locking her jaw. The world around her was cold, and she felt as if she were suspended out of reality.

She felt as if she were some kind of creature tied down in a cage that had just been branded. Something inside of her rebelled, rising up and refusing to be caged like this.

Drawing on strength she hadn't realized she possessed, Carter pushed herself up off of the floor, barely gaining her knees before the shaking completely overtook her. Her shoulder burned and ached all at once, the pain radiating up into her neck, a massive headache forming at the base of her skull. Locking her teeth in a snarl, she forced her legs beneath her and stood upright.

Something slammed into her temple, and she fell to the floor once again, unconscious before she hit the metal.

"You remember what to do," Anubis rasped, watching the scene unfold beneath him. Anger pulsed through his entire being, filling him with unfathomable rage. He could do nothing, however. Ammit had made her choice, calling the woman and her companions to serve her on her world.

Anubis's First Prime bowed, motioning for two of his underlings to pick up the fallen woman and carry her out of the room. The doors slid shut behind them, silence once again descending over the Throne Room.

"Take the others to the transport craft," Anubis ordered, standing by way of dismissal. The remaining Jaffa bowed to their god, then quickly herded the shell shocked villagers and the slightly disturbed and frightened SG-1 out of the large room. As the door began to slide shut again, Anubis heard the flippant colonel call over his shoulder, "If you hurt her, I will personally tear out your-" The rest of his threat was silenced.

Anubis stood, stepping down the steps to his dais heavily. He crossed the gleaming floor, his cloak swishing along the ground as he strode toward the window overlooking the sandy yellow and blue planet orbiting restlessly beneath him.

"Curse you," he hissed. Whether he meant himself or Ammit, he would never know.

**J-_-S-_-T-_-D**

When Sam regained consciousness, the first thing she noticed was the cold. She forced her eyes open, blinking in the sudden light that bit into her sensitive retinas which only served to increase the astounding headache that pounded through her skull. Instinctively, she turned her head to the side, her cheek coming into contact with the smooth, hard surface of a table.

It was only then that she realized that she was completely naked. Startled, and the first taints of panic beginning to seep into her heart, she sat upright, nearly falling off of the table as she did so. She clutched the edges of the table, barely maintaining her precarious position on top of the bench, her eyes wide and her breath hitching in her throat.

Seconds after her abrupt awakening and near plummet to the ground, hands grabbed her shoulders causing goose bumps to ripple along her arms as they pulled her back down to the table. She instinctively fought them, but whoever it was that had a hold of her was much too strong.

She heard a door open and someone else come into the room, then the clatter of a tray being placed on a counter or shelf. Sam looked around frantically, attempting to see who had a hold of her, but the figures were cloaked in shadow, their faces unreadable.

"We were hoping you'd remain unconscious," a voice remarked impassively as a man drew near to the table, the familiar prickle up her spine and the dual tones announcing that he was indeed a Goa'uld. He paused as he looked down at the thrashing woman, admiring her spirit as she continued to fight a losing battle. "Ah well. I suppose the procedure will have to be done this way."

Sam lashed out with her feet, catching the Goa'uld in the back as he turned away. He stumbled then turned, his eyes flashing in anger. He motioned to someone on the other side of her, and before she could react, her knees were being pressed painfully into the table as well, a heavy weight crushing them. She arched her back, attempting to lift the dead weight off of her but, with the ones holding her shoulders as well, she realized that it was fruitless. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but try.

"Stop fighting. It'll only make it worse," the Goa'uld said from her shoulder. Sam slumped to the table, turning a gleaming glare on the creature by her side. She jerked toward him, unable and unwilling to allow him to win. He easily stepped out of reach of her snapping teeth.

Sam felt a hand grab her hair, slamming her head onto the table as well. She attempted to move at all, and only succeeded in straining her neck and back. Unable to fight any longer, Sam grit her teeth and stared straight upward, determined to give those holding her no satisfaction during whatever they were about to do to her.

A sharp pain sliced into her hip, tearing at the tender skin and grating against her bone. She bit her lip, her imaginary scream reverberating around her mind as she clenched her teeth together to keep from making a sound as whatever it was continued deeper into her flesh. Her body tensed as it fought the pain and she felt hot liquid run down her hip and onto her back as blood pooled out of the cut.

Seconds stretched endlessly onward as the Goa'uld worked. Sam had no idea as to what he was doing and, at the moment, she didn't care. Small tremors wracked her body as the pain spiked yet again, the feeling of something being shoved into the wound making Sam cringe and bite back a small whimper.

Abruptly, the hands at her hip vanished, cold air washing over the wound, causing the raggedly torn flesh to sting agonizingly. The blood on her lip once again began to stain her mouth with a coppery taste as her teeth tore through the already worried tissue.

The hands returned, only this time they were at her shoulder, poking and prodding the tender skin. Sam barely swallowed a hiss that threatened to escape between clenched teeth as the Goa'uld ran a long, carefully manicured nail over the angry red and raw skin that covered the mark that had been seared into her flesh. As he continued to inspect it, her stomach constricted consciously fighting the nausea that threatened to overcome her.

"The brand looks good; it burned deep," the Goa'uld commented. "I suppose I don't need to ink anymore in." His presence at her shoulder vanished again.

The next thing Sam felt were warm vibrations running through her body. Her eyes went wide, her breath stilling for a second as she felt the effects of the Healing Device working throughout her damaged body.

Slowly at first, and then quite suddenly, the pain in her hip disappeared, diminishing to a memory. The pounding headache that throbbed through her temple began to fade as well, the cut still bleeding fitfully on her lip shrinking and then disappearing. The burning that had continued to plague her shoulder and back also vanished, leaving Sam gasping as she suddenly found herself pain free.

The hands holding her lifted as well, leaving her alone and shaking on the table. Immediately sitting up, Sam caught a glimpse of four figures marching through the open door, leaving only the Goa'uld that had performed the operation – whatever that may have been.

The man eyed her for a second before he sneered. He left without another word.

Sam pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging her knees close. Small tremors overtook her as she sat on the cold surface of the table, numbness beginning to creep into her outer extremities. For a moment, all she could do was sit there, silently collecting her thoughts that had been scattered during the last few minutes, and pushing the fear that threatened to overwhelm her back into the box where she kept it locked.

When she felt a little more in control, she looked around. She was in a small room – barely large enough to hold the table upon which she was sitting, cabinets, and a small stool. All of the cabinets were bare, and she could see from where she was sitting that they were locked.

Sam slipped off of the table, crossing the narrow space to the wall. She slid down the surface, crouching near the floor, her chin resting on her knees, her hands clutching her shins. As the silence stretched around her, she slowly, ever so slowly, began to relax.

Finally, Sam reached down, carefully inspecting her left hip. A small ridge met her probing fingertips – a tiny bump in her skin that shouldn't have been there. She pressed it, and a dull pain flared through her hip, a small popping feeling grating through her bone. She drew her hand back, wishing to not witness the feeling again.

The door slid open, and a Jaffa entered. He looked around when he saw that she was not on the table but, as soon as he noticed her pale figure huddled against the wall, he dropped something on the table and turned to leave. He paused on his way out, glancing back at her, then left, closing the door behind him.

He had left a small bundle on top of the table and, daring to hope, Sam moved toward the bench cautiously. With a small sigh of relief, she grabbed the small pile of clothes and carried it back to the corner opposite the door. She shook the pile out and a small smile crept onto her face for the first time in hours. Her own sports bra and underwear had been returned, and a pair of loose fitting black pants and a pearly gray shirt had been supplied along with them. She gratefully pulled the clothing on, feeling much better as she slid the material over her head.

Once again sliding to the ground, she waited for whatever was next to come.

**J-_-S-_-T-_-D**

The door slid shut, cutting off the view of the Throne Room beyond. Something in O'Neill's mind ruptured, spewing anger and hatred out into his body, filling him with a boiling, seething rage. He lost it.

"If you hurt her, I will personally tear out your heart!" he yelled, not realizing the irony of his statement as the door closing with a snick cutting off the threat before he could finish it. He turned, making a dash for a side corridor, his only thought to find and rescue Carter. Unsurprisingly, was grabbed before he could make it more than a few feet and thrown to the floor.

Almost instantaneously, Jack was back on his feet, anger and hatred glittering in his steely brown gaze. He stood there for a second, poised and ready for a fight. The fight never came. Instead, he received a sharp blow to the head and he fell, somehow miraculously retaining consciousness.

"Move along," a gruff voice ordered, and he felt someone pick him up. The scent that clung to the man holding him in a fireman's carry was clean, yet slightly warm, as if surrounded by a hundred candles – Teal'c.

As the darkness fought for control of his mind, Jack's thoughts drifted back to his 2IC. Fiery rage flashed through him once again as he thought of what Anubis had done to her. Son of a bitch. And she had been dragged off, unconscious, blood beginning to matt her hair from the head wound.

What had they been thinking, the bastards. Why had they knocked her out like they had? At the same time, Jack couldn't help but feel a wave of pride for his Major as he thought of the way she had fought.

Since when had she become _his_ Major? Jack wondered idly, slipping farther into incoherency. His last thought before he finally succumbed was that, if anything happened to her, he would personally kill whoever had done it.

Long moments stretched out monotonously for Daniel as they passed through the Ha'tak. Teal'c was ahead of him a little, Jack slung over his shoulders. What had possessed the man, Daniel would never know. Then again, he himself had come close to losing it as they had been ushered out of the room. Even now, the horror of what had just happened was only beginning to sink in, and Daniel could feel his anger mounting ever so slightly.

They continued to descend, reaching the very bowels of the Ha'tak. As the small contingency of people continued through the hallways, Daniel began to notice differences from the upper levels. There were doors spaced at regular intervals along the corridor that they were traversing, although they were much larger than the standard Goa'uld entrances. He could have easily fit an elephant through one of them, with room to spare. The gold plating on the walls was also much duller, as if it was not cared for as well.

Distracted by these details, Daniel almost ran into Teal'c when he stopped abruptly. Only then did Daniel see the Jaffa's upraised hand, signaling them to halt. The hum of a keypad being activated buzzed through the corridor, and then the large doors set into the wall began to slide open.

Daniel peered inside and saw a ship hangar, two Tel'taks sitting precariously on their landing pads. Huge doors on the opposite wall looked as though they retracted, and Daniel could see the faint, telltale glimmer of a force field oscillating around the opening.

"Inside," the lead Jaffa ordered, his tone bored.

Daniel obeyed, knowing that it would be pointless to not. As he stepped into the hangar, he was suddenly struck by how small he was. The ceiling dwarfed him by a good hundred feet, walkways spaced around the room and catwalks criss-crossing the open space.

As they neared the Tel'taks, Daniel was slightly taken aback. It was only as they drew closer that he realized that, although the design was much the same as the usual Cargo Ship, these ships were in fact much larger. As they were ushered inside the lightened interior, Daniel once again was amazed at Anubis's seemingly endless amount of resources.

The inside of the Tel'tak was the same as the usual ones, only the open spaces were much wider. And, Daniel realized as he took a second look around, there was a door that he was unaccustomed to. This unusual door was exactly where they were being led to. It slid open upon command, and once again, the nine of them were ordered inside.

Once they were inside, Teal'c swung O'Neill off of his shoulders and down onto the floor. The soft thud of flesh hitting metal echoed around the compartment, accompanied by the grinding of metal against metal as the doors slid shut. Once again, they were locked behind Goa'uld walls.

Daniel knelt by Jack's side, gently pressing his forefinger and middle finger to his neck, searching for a heartbeat. To his relief, he quickly recognized the steady thrumming, and sat back on his heels, breathing a sigh of pent up breath.

It was only then that Daniel looked around, noticing for the first time since exiting the Throne Room just how frightened the villagers were. They were clutching their stomachs, and their eyes were wide as they gazed around themselves, sweat gleaming on their foreheads. The man who had been talking to Sam while they were in the cell was standing at the front, running his fingers through his hair in worry, although he seemed to be the calmest of all of them.

Daniel stood, crossing the room to stand beside him.

"It's gonna be alright," Daniel promised. "Why don't you get your people settled and calmed down a little? There's nothing we can do right now," he added as he saw the man glance toward the door. "I'm Daniel, by the way."

"My name is Keflur," the man said, turning away from the door and looking suspiciously at Daniel. "Why are you trying to help?" he asked warily.

"We're in this together now," Daniel replied. "Whether we like it or not, we're prisoners together. Might as well be friendly," Daniel said simply, smiling a little. Keflur nodded as if Daniel had passed some sort of test, and then he turned to the others, speaking quietly and reassuringly.

Satisfied that Keflur could handle it much better than he could, Daniel returned to Jack and Teal'c, sitting down by his stoic friend.

"What do you think they're doing?" Daniel finally asked voicing the question he knew they both were thinking.

"I do not know," Teal'c replied, a dangerous set of his jaw alerting Daniel to the fact that perhaps they should steer clear of the topic for the time being. That was fine with him.

Soon after, a faint moan escaped from Jack, drawing the two unharmed members of SG-1 toward him like a moth to flame.

"Jack?" Daniel asked, kneeling by the older man's side.

"Agh," Jack replied, slapping his palms against his forehead which only served to make him wince. "My head," he grumbled, sitting up. "What happened?"

"You received a sharp blow to the head from a staff weapon," Teal'c replied automatically, moving out of the way so that O'Neill could lean against the wall.

"Where are we?" the colonel asked next, peering around the room. Daniel was oddly reminded of whiskery old mouse peering around the larder for any sign of the cat, although he would never tell Jack that.

"I believe we are in a modified version of a Tel'tak," Teal'c answered again. Jack harrumphed and then leaned back against the wall, settling his head back against the solid surface gratefully.

"Carter?" he asked finally, and Daniel got the distinct impression that this was the question Jack had wanted to ask from the start.

"We don't know," Daniel replied this time, crossing his arms and glancing around the compartment again. "We haven't heard anything since we were put in here."

The floor began to quiver, a rumble building up in the engines beneath their feet.

_Uh-oh_ Daniel thought, following Jack's lead as he jumped to his feet.

"No," Jack cursed, grabbing onto the wall as he swayed. "Dammit!" He leapt forward, dodging through the people still clustered around the door, slamming his fists into it. "Where's Carter?" he bellowed, finally resorting to kicking the annoyingly unperturbed door. He didn't even notice when Daniel and Teal'c both moved into positions on either side of him, ready to catch him should he keel over.

The rumbling intensified and a moment later, Daniel felt the surge of pressure as the ship lifted off of the deck, moving forward. A few seconds later, the sound of the engines shifted slightly, and Daniel knew that they had left the cargo bay.

Jack slumped to the ground, his head roaring. He clutched his forehead, his fingers digging into his hair.

They had left, and Carter wasn't with them. She was gone.


End file.
